


darling, i’ll see you on the flipside

by randomprose



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: I'm Sorry, M/M, Sort of? - Freeform, Time Traveling!AU, fantasy!au, historical!AU, i'm not really good at writing fantasy aus, modern!AU, part of KuroTsuki Gift Exchange in Tumblr, so this is a cross between that and
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 12:04:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12681522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomprose/pseuds/randomprose
Summary: “Remember when we first met”“You mean the day you almost died?”Kuroo and Tsukishima kill each other in different timelines. It’s not as bad as it sounds.





	darling, i’ll see you on the flipside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluefading](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluefading/gifts).



> Context: in this story, Kuroo and Tsukishima belong to warlock Houses (yeah, I chose houses instead of coven because why not?) who are every so often are sent to the human realm to help other magic folks/creatures who chose to live there. When they die and/or finish their assignment in the timeline they are sent, they come back to their Houses in the magic realm. They can be hurt/wounded but they’ll only die if they are killed in the magic realm and only magic folk could kill them.

“Hey, remember when we first met?”

Tsukishima looks down at glowing red eyes, sharp and alert, and the grin pulling on plump red lips cheeky even as they are now.

“You mean the day you almost died because you’re an idiot?”

 

* * *

 

**_Hong Kong, China – May 6, 2003_ **

Kuroo sighs as he waits to cross the street fidgeting from one foot to another. God, how long has he been standing here. Is the light broken or what?

The week has been hectic. It bled by fast in a series of constructing spells and potion concoctions, customers flocking in and out collecting their orders and dropping new ones, putting up new ward spells to keep up the pretense of a quaint little coffee shop down at third and making sure its perfectly normal owner-slash-barista is, in fact, perfectly normal and not an actual warlock brewing potions instead of caffeinated drinks.

It is only when he was halfway through brewing an order and went to his pantry (“Hah! Pantry,” Bokuto would often cackle whenever he refers to his potions cupboard as that) to retrieve a couple of lizard’s eyes did he see that he’s out of half of his usual stock of ingredients.

So, on a lovely Saturday autumn afternoon, Kuroo decides to close shop and head to the apothecary down by the alleyway of fourth and fifth that is in no way masquerading as a flower shop. He wonders if Akaashi has restocked his bat wings and armadillo scales. He’s only been putting orders for those since five months ago. One would think after centuries of friendship (“There are no friendships in business, Kuroo-san”) Akaashi would forego his strict policy of ‘first come, first served’ and just reserve Kuroo a couple of orders.

Kuroo looks up at the unchanging lights in impatience just in time to meet shocked but pleased glowing golden eyes and a smirk so sharp it could cut glass.

‘Found you.’ He read pink lips mouth and Kuroo suppressed the shiver that ran down his spine.

There is a ‘ding’ as the light changes and Kuroo bolts.

.

.

.

At first glance, no one could ever guess what goes on in Tsukishima’s mind. He maintains a perfectly blank face and moves about inconspicuously, slinks between people and buildings quietly, blending into the crowd and the drab background of the bustling city.

Tsukishima is calm, composed, a thick blanket of almost permanent boredom draped over the burning impatience and irritation bubbling just beneath the façade of forced nonchalance. He doesn’t rise up to Hinata’s taunting (“Are you sure you’re really looking, Tsukishima?”) or Kageyama’s jeering (“It’s been, what? Millennia? You’ll never find him. Someone who doesn’t want to be found won’t be found—especially someone like him”) or Yamaguchi’s stupid assumptions (“Maybe somebody else already got to him?”). He doesn’t let them get to him and just moves on – city to city, place to place, different dimensions and timelines – because they don’t know what they’re talking about.

But, fuck, if Tsukishima isn’t at his wits ends. It’s been decades, centuries, it’s nearing a millennia and still not a single trace. Tsukishima is half relieved that they have yet to meet, the other half of him is always on edge waiting for the other shoe to drop. He’s got to be out there somewhere. He’s still out there and definitely not dead because if he is then that means the Prophecy is wrong and the Prophecy is _never_ wrong, but if it is then—

Tsukishima cuts himself off his musing, closes his eyes to quell the burning inside him, and takes a deep breath. He’s in the middle of the city surrounded by mortals and while they’re normally absorbed in their own selves to notice anything out of the ordinary, here, in the middle of a crossroad, someone, somebody is bound to notice if Tsukishima even lets out a smidge of a hint that he’s anything but ordinary.

So, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He exhales opening his eyes only to be met by the very root of Tsukishima’s centuries old bane.

Adrenaline shoots through his veins, golden eyes glowing as his eyes land on unruly hair, facial features he’s memorized and ingrained in his brain he can recognized them even with the person’s head bowed, and an aura that stands out, radiating that he is anything but mortal.

Really, Tsukishima thinks, after all these years, this is how he finds him. In the middle of a crowded city, in a time where mortals far outnumber their kind, when they are only regarded as myth, are only mentioned as nothing more than folklore, a product of the imagination, a work of fiction. This is where he finds Kuroo Tetsurou.

Did no one ever told him to mask his aura or have he become too complacent as the years went by? Sure, mortals hardly notice anything but did he really think he’d go by unnoticed by his kind? Did he think, that after centuries of hiding and not being found, that they’ve given up coming after him? Surely, he’s not unaware of the prophecy. Someone like Kuroo Tetsurou could not possibly be as stupid as that.

He looks up and Tsukishima couldn’t help the feral grin that stretched across his face – not when shock and panic (and is that a smidgen of fear?) is clearly etched on Kuroo Tetsurou’s face at the sight of him.

“Found you.”

Kuroo runs just as the lights at the crossroads change and Tsukishima gives chase.

 

* * *

 

“You could’ve just engaged me then, you know. Killed me off.”

“What? In the middle of the pedestrian? Are you crazy?” Kuroo ducks, dodges out of the way. “I mean, I know mortals are pretty much clueless like all the fucking time but I think they would have noticed two magic folks engaged in a duel to death right in the middle of a crossway.”

“Better than tailing it out of there like a coward. You just made everything difficult then.” Tsukishima shrugs, narrowly missing a jab aimed at his face. “I would’ve killed you off eventually.”

“Well, why didn’t you?”

“Why didn’t I what?”

“Killed me off then.” Kuroo shrugs jumping out of the way of a kick. “I distinctly remember almost running in the middle of traffic and _someone_ pulling me back before I was splattered on the street. I really don’t think I was the one who made things difficult then, Tsukki.”

Tsukishima scowled at the nickname and Kuroo smirked still finding amusement at the reaction even after all the years that passed.

“You could have easily pushed me to my death, you know? Just a nudge and I would have been flattened by all those zooming cars.” Kuroo swiped at his legs and Tsukishima jumped just in time, scowl still intact. “So, why didn’t you?”

Well, Tsukishima thinks, isn’t that a very good question.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

**_Chelmno, Poland – July 7, 1940_ **

Their second meeting goes like this:

Kuroo finds Tsukishima injured and half dead in an alleyway as he is walking home from the hospital. He takes one look at Tsukishima’s bloodied uniform, the medals and decorations on the left side of his chest, and scoffs before promptly hauling the man up, cursing himself all the way until he’s managed to put the injured man to bed and care for his wounds.

He’s going to regret this, he knows he will, but Kuroo Tetsurou does not take advantage of someone who clearly cannot fight back. And anyway, he’s a doctor in this timeline. Hippocratic Oath and all that.

When Tsukishima comes through, he is greeted with his body aching all over like a motherfucker and the the sight of Kuroo, replacing the dead flowers on the vase by his bedside of all things. He groans, disbelieving that he’s been bested in this timeline but accepting it all the same.

“Welcome back to the land of the living. How are you feeling?” Kuroo asks and Tsukishima wants to wipe the smug smile off his face.

“If you’re going to end me, make it quick and make it clean.” Really. What was he thinking walking around without at least one companion when Jewish riots are at an all-time high?

“I am offended that you think I would take such an easy win, Tsukishima.”

Tsukishima gives him a blank stare and Kuroo just chuckles. The sounds of the war can be heard beyond Kuroo’s apartment but neither of them paid it any mind. Kuroo pulls a chair to sit beside the bed as Tsukishima struggles to sit up, wincing all the way and clutching at his wounds. He hands Tsukishima a steaming teacup which the latter eyed suspiciously.

“Relax. It’s just herbal tea mixed with a special potion to make your wounds heal faster.”

“Are you sure it’s not a special _poison_ to kill me faster?”

“I just said I don’t take easy wins.”

Tsukishima takes the teacup still eyeing Kuroo suspiciously. He sniffs it before waving his hand over it and muttering a quick poison checking spell. He could practically feel Kuroo’s smug look of ‘I told you so’ when he comes up with nothing.

“Say, didn’t we last meet in the ‘50s?”

Tsukishima scoffs after he takes a sip of his tea. “You act like you don’t know how all of this shit works. The prophecy doesn’t give two shits about the timelines.”

“Hmm. True. I wish it would, though. I really hate going back in time.”

Tsukishima watches as Kuroo stands up. He finishes his tea in silence and watches as Kuroo fusses about the room.

Kuroo Tetsurou is a warlock born two millennials before Tsukishima Kei. Born in the House of Nekoma, one of the five strongest houses of warlocks. In his prime, and during the time where magic is rampant and is the way of life, he was said to be one of the most notorious warlock who hunted rouge witches, wizards, warlocks and other magical folks that caused harm to their world and the human realm. He is also half of the prophecy that foretold of two warlocks existing in the same timelines and bringing about chaos and destruction to all that exists.

The problem with the prophecy is this: warlocks of different houses cannot exist in the same timeline together. This has been the rule since the beginning of time and nothing and no one has gone against the rule, that is, until Tsukishima Kei was born.

Tsukishima Kei is born in the House of Karasuno. He is also born in the same timeline that Kuroo Tetsurou happened to exists at the same time. If it was coincidence or an anomaly or part of the prophecy, no one can tell, but history tells of great disturbances during the first time that Kuroo and Tsukishima existed in the same timelines. The only reason that the world and everything else have not perish was the fact that neither of them have met yet.

That is until recent times.

“I can feel you trying to practically a stare a hole through my skull. If you’re planning of a way to end me, you can forget about it. At least for the time being. You can’t do anything until your wounds heal, Officer.” Kuroo’s grin is sharp and just a tad bit mocking as he approaches Tsukishima with fresh bandages. He motions for him to sit up properly so he can change his soiled ones.

“Why are you doing this? What’s your motive? Are you really having fun playing pretend, Doctor?” The glint in Tsukishima’s eyes is just as sharp even as he watches Kuroo change his bandages carefully, gently. He can’t help but feel an odd sense of warmth in it and Tsukishima hates himself for it.

“For the last time, I don’t want an easy win and if that still doesn’t convince you, then just consider this as payback for saving me from running into traffic last time.”

Tsukishima scoffs. “That would have been too easy if I hadn’t.”

“Exactly.” Kuroo pats his thigh as he stands up to dispose of the soiled bandages. “Besides,” he stops looking over his shoulder, “the prophecy always fulfills itself anyway.”

The glint in his eyes and the smirk on his lips makes delicious shiver of excitement run down Tsukishima’s spine.

 

* * *

 

“I could ask you the same thing, you know.” Tsukshima says sliding away from Kuroo’s blow. “You could’ve let me die in that alleyway or finished me off yourself.”

“Oh my God. Are we still on this really? I’ve told you a thousand times. I’m not about an easy win.” Kuroo sends a spell Tsukishima’s way and ducks as a reflective spell comes flashing back. “And anyway, what did you expect me to do? I was a fucking doctor then. Hippocratic Oath and all that jazz, you know? And we were literally on the same shitty side. It would have been a hell of a lot suspicious if I didn’t help a fellow Nazi.” Kuroo makes a face. “Ew. I cannot believe that came out of my fucking mouth. Ugh.”

“What? You helping me out?”

“No. The fact that I was a Nazi in one of my lives. Ugh.”

“That one was an awful one.” Tsukishima nods solemnly. “I was a fucking Nazi General for fucks sakes. Humans are so infuriatingly stupid, brainwashed by mere words and blindly following a bigoted man. Pathetic.” His grip on his sword tightens at the memory of having a hand in killing a lot of innocent lives.

“Can’t believe I had to heal a shitton of fucking Nazi soldiers. And I even nursed a general back to health in my own damn apartment! Goddamn. If hell exists, I’d probably end up there.”

“Not my fault your stupid instinct is to nurture and not kill. You’re really shit at the whole fulfilling the prophecy thing you know that, right?”

Kuroo stops and leaps out of the way of Tsukishima’s attacks. Smirking at the warlock from the other side of the arena, he thinks no truer words have ever been spoken. Still—

“You’re one to talk, Tsukishima.”

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

**_Manhattan, New York, USA – September 27, 2018_ **

They didn’t always cross paths in the most conventional of ways. Sometimes they cross paths in the most unconventional and the most undignified circumstances.

“This is hardly appropriate.”

On his 21st year in his current timeline , a couple of members of the House of Karasuno decided it would be fun to drop by—going to or just coming back from or simply just visiting from their own timelines—to celebrate.

And by celebrate, naturally—because this is the House of Karasuno after all—it meant doing it the mortal way—with booze and all things vice in a strip club.

“Humans make a big fuss about one’s turning 21. I never really understand it, it’s just another year of aging after all, but I suppose it’s one of the silly things they made up to soften the blow of the fact that they’re mortal life has a limit. Plus, I think it’s fun.” Sugawara said with a shrug and an easy smile as he downs a pint of beer in one. Beside him, Daichi immediately signals a waiter for a refill.

“Yeah! It’s like a coming of age for them, right?” Nishinoya asked as Sugawara nodded in affirmation. “Kinda like the Sun Lodge ritual when you turned 13,000 years old. Remember that?”[1]

Tsukishima scowled at the memory. Of course he remembers his Coming of Age ritual. It was hard not to after the night he spent in the woods with the other members of the Karasuno House. He still has the scar on his forearm from being catapulted off the cliff of Torino Woods. 

He glared at Kageyama, Hinata—and even, Yamaguchi, the traitor— as they snickered. The latter had the decency to cover his laughter behind his drink while Kageyama and Hinata openly cackled.

“I’m turning 2,100 years old. I’m not actually 21.” That’s basically a seedling in their kind. “I’ve been of age for eight millennia.”

“Eh. 2,100, 21. The number 21 are both there so it’s basically the same.” Tanaka shrugs dismissively. “Besides, you’re in the mortal realm which means here you’re _just_ becoming of age.” He grins, wide and sharp, the glint in his eyes tells trouble and Tsukishima narrows his eyes, wary. “And what better way to celebrate a young mortal man’s coming of age?”

So, there he was sprawled on the couch of a dimly lit room after being practically thrown inside by his fellow Karasuno House members, half drunk and light headed enough to not care anymore and just let them do as they please. The dim lighting combined with the strobe lights and the booming music spilling over from outside hurts his eyes and is giving him a slight headache making him close his eyes. The least those idiots could do is finish the job and get him wasted and not just halfway there. Or some weed. Getting high sounds like a fan-fucking-tastic idea right then.

It wasn’t until a voice sounded did Tsukishima opened his eyes. A voice that is really familiar that he is starting to get used to and that he is finding less annoying at each new and changing timelines.

“Well,” the unmistakable drawl of Kuroo’s deep voice sounded. “Ain’t this a real surprise.”

Tsukshima’s head shot up to the direction of the voice, which he promptly regretted because he’s vision is practically swimming and his head feels like lead, where Kuroo Tetsurou is half leaning out of a gigantic makeshift, he squinted his eyes,…birthday cake?

How the fuck did he not notice that being there?

“I was wondering when we’d meet here. I was getting kind of bored actually. Never thought I’d see you here of all places, Tsukishima. Or, you know, just in a place like this in general.”

“Yeah, well,” The appearance of Kuroo sobered him up quicker than a sobering spell and he pulled himself up to a more upright position. “I never asked to see you in a pink thong coming out of a birthday cake yet somehow here we are.”

Kuroo chuckled at that and, whether if it was still because of the alcohol or their current situation, Tsukishima allowed himself a smirk with no little humor.

There are probably a thousand questions that should be ask. Like how come the other members of the Karasuno House didn’t engage Kuroo in battle; if they knew that it would be him inside the makeshift birthday cake and if they planned it all along; if this was part of the surprise, making Tsukishima’s job easier and quicker. Then again, Kuroo does have a reputation that precedes him and it doesn’t look like he was put inside the cake against his will. It is also highly unlikely that they’d be helping him because the prophecy specifically forbids any kind of meddling of its fulfillment by any outside force other than the two people involved. Besides, it’s not like anyone from his house other than him knew what Kuroo Tetsurou even looks like.

“What brings you in this fine establishment, Tsukishima? Feeling a little wild? Feeling like living life for once? Or just feeling a little lonely?”

“I’ve just turned 2,100 but my mortal self here just turned 21. Some members of my house thought it would be fun to celebrate it like the latter. Coming of Age and all that mortal nonsense.”

“Hmm. I rather like how your lot thinks. This whole forbidding of other houses interacting should really just be scrapped. I’d like to meet your bunch. They sound fun.”

“The Heads of Houses will smite you if they find out you think like that.”

“Eh. Like you said, _if_ they find out.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Tsuksihima scoffed shaking his head before his eyes focused on the older. “Well? Are you just going to stand there all night? Didn’t my idiot lot pay you to do something or whatever? It’s my birthday. Either you let me kill you easy or make their money’s worth.”

The next words that came out of his mouth, Tsukishima swore is just meant to taunt Kuroo. He didn’t feel like getting into a fight but if he figured if he got Kuroo riled up, it wouldn’t be a bad end for his 21st-2,100th birthday. He didn’t think Kuroo would bite and turn it 180 degrees of Tsukishima’s suspected outcome.

“Well, then,” Kuroo purrs— _purrs—_ as he gets out of the makeshift birthday cake—again, how could Tsukishima fucking miss that?—struts towards Tsukishima slowly and sensually. “Since it is your birthday, I suggest we call it a truce for the night.” He stands in front of him, parting his legs further and stepping in the space between them as he leaned down on Tsukishima’s space, his arms on either side of his head caging him between his body and the couch. “You can just attempt to eliminate me the next time we meet and I promise I won’t go easy on you then.”

And Tsukishima must be drunker than he thought because the snarky retort at the tip of his tongue fizzes out at the realization that he actually found Kuroo Tetsurou, in that moment, attractive as all hell and— _holy shit_ —disturbingly arousing. Kuroo is practically wearing nothing, flimsy thong covering what leaves very little to the imagination, all hard planes and sharp edges, shiny and beautiful and looking oh so, so, so perfect. It’s fucking up Tsukishima’s everything.

“But for now,” one of Kuroo’s hands moves to caress Tsukishima’s cheek as he leaned closer until he’s level with his ear. “Consider this your birthday present.” He nips at Tsukishima’s earlobe lightly and the younger closes his eyes as he suppressed a shiver.

Tsukishima’s eyes shot up when he felt Kuroo straddling his hips, pulling their body flush together as he leaned down to bring their faces closer. His hands instinctively flew to rest on the man’s hips, thumbs unconsciously rubbing at Kuroo’s hips. Tsukishima could feel Kuroo’s long lashes fluttering against his cheeks when he blinks, the glitter on his cheek, his pink plump lips pulling him in, and his intense gaze holding him down. He could feel the tension in the air crackling, the dull thud of the music coming from outside slowly fading in the back of his mind, the lights no longer hurting his eyes as his gaze fixated on Kuroo and he wants nothing more than to pull him closer.

Their lips are so close it was almost like they were breathing the same air. Tsukishima felt the faint brush of their lips when Kuroo whispered, “Happy birthday, Tsukishima” before promptly closing the gap. The crackling tension exploded in electrifying wires travelling everywhere their hands traveled on each other. At some point, Tsukishima actually saw fucking fireworks behind his eyelids and found himself cursing the need to come up for air. Kuroo broke the kiss only to latch his lips on Tsukishima’s neck, kissing and lightly nipping at its column, hands sliding underneath his shirt and travelling up his sides.

Happy fucking birthday indeed.

It wasn’t until Kuroo is smirking up at him from where he’s kneeled between Tsukishima’s knees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, did he realized what just happened and what is still happening as Kuroo rose to straddle him once again.

Tomorrow, when he’d sobered up and his mind supplies him of the memory of this night he’ll wonder what the fuck was he thinking.

But for now, for now, Kuroo’s body is a welcomed weight on his lap and his lips is like magic he’s never known before, hands warm and leaving pleasant electric shocks in Tsuksihima’s skin with his every touch. Kuroo leans for another kiss and he couldn’t help but smile against his lips.

Tsukishima is so, so, so fucked.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, please.” Tsukishima scoffs as he swung his sword. “You were the one who proposed a truce in New York remember?”

“Because it was your birthday. I have enough decency to not try and kill you on such a joyous occasion. I mean, the day the other half of the prophecy was born shouldn’t be spent in blood shed, yes?” Kuroo raises his shield just as Tsukishima strikes him. “Besides, I distinctly remember you enjoying that truce.” He says with a leer as he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Tsukishima flips him off in response. Kuroo just cackles.

“Look,” Kuroo lowers his shield as he raises a weapon of his own, a metal spear. “I’m not saying I couldn’t take you and others from your kin but I would prefer not to fight in just a thong and covered in glitter.” He spins it as he makes a come hither gesture at his opponent.

“I didn’t think stuff like that bothers you. I thought you’d rather enjoy that.” Tsukishima smirked as he approached to attack. Their weapons clashed as they battle for dominance.

“Are you sure it wouldn’t be _you_ who would enjoy that, hmm?” Kuroo says with an easy smirk. It caught Tsukishima off guard enough for Kuroo to throw him off and on the ground.

Tsukishima struggles as Kuroo pins him on the ground. He uses the blade of his sword to shield him from Kuroo’s blow but the older warlock continues to push him down. “You used a charm on me,” he says with gritted teeth.

Kuroo shrugs noncommittally. “I may or may not. I’m not sure actually. Funny, I don’t think I remember finishing the spell in my head before your hands were all over me.”

It was like a repeat of that night, him under Kuroo and being pinned by those eyes, red and glowing and intense holding him down. Kuroo blinks and he is reminded of the way hooded eyes stared at him in that dimly lit private room at a strip club in New York, hot and wanting but with a softness in them and something else he couldn’t quite place—and hell, no, he is not falling for that shit again.

With a grunt and a strength enhancing spell Tsukishima manages to push Kuroo off. He is quick on his feet as he shake his head to rid him of Kuroo’s invasive charm before turning to glower at the smirking and all too smug warlock.

“I was trying to push you off, asshole.”

“Of course you were, darling.”

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

**_Salem, Massachusetts, USA – October 22, 1692_ **

“Well, ain’t this a step back from our previous one.” Kuroo drawls as he approached the crouched figure in the fields. He leans against an oak tree and smirks in satisfaction at the resigned sigh from the said person. “What are you doing out here so late? Shouldn’t a maiden be indoors by now?”

“Kuroo.” Said ‘maiden’ greeted in the flattest tone as he whirled around to face him.

The older warlock bites back a smile at the image of Tsukishima in a long frock and a veil, a wicker basket hanging from his arm, his other hand clutching a bunch of moon flowers.

“It’s rather dangerous to be out and about at this time of night, you know? Especially to a maiden such as yourself.”

“I can take care of myself just fine but thank you for your con—”

“Lots of bad things going on around town. Unexplained sightings, incurable illnesses, strange apparitions, young girls losing their minds. It’s all very strange. Not to mention that recent—what was it? Witch trials? The village is in a frenzy about it now. Anyone found remotely suspicious is immediately taken into custody. It’s all very chaotic if you ask me.” Kuroo shakes his head with a sigh. “I guess what I’m saying is you really should be more careful, Tsukishima.”

Tsukishima’s smile is saccharine sweet as he returns to his previous task. “I’m just gathering some flowers. These only bloom at night and I rather like them. There’s nothing suspicious about it and it’s not entirely uncommon for…maidens to still be out and about at this time.” It’s true, too. The town pubs and the village hall are still alight and people are still milling about.

 “Ah, but you never know what these mortals are thinking. Just last week a maiden was taken into custody just because he outdrank five men. Imagine being accused a witch just because you have a high tolerance! Saeko wouldn’t last a day here. She’d be in trial by her first night.” Kuroo chuckles as he thinks of one the High Witches. “They’re suspicious over the slightest of things. You may think nothing of a maiden collecting flowers alone at night in the field but to them they might think otherwise.”

“Be that as it may, I’m sure it—“

“One might even suspect you a witch.”

Tsukishima stopped mid-sentence and pursed his lips and Kuroo’s smirk might as well be perpetually etch on his face by now. The younger warlock drops the current batch of moon flowers on his basket as he makes his way to the older by the oak tree.

“You wouldn’t.” He hissed, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched.

“Hmm, wouldn’t I?” Kuroo fingers the flowers by Tsukishima’s basket, the flowers’ white petals velvety against his fingertips. “Moon flowers, huh? Very lovely. You have wonderful taste. I wonder, do you like it because of its affiliation to your name?”

“No, I just like them.”

Kuroo hums, swallowing the ‘It suits you’ that threatened to come out of his mouth. Vaguely, he stored the information of Tsukishima’s preference for moon flowers at the back of his head for future references. Although he’s not quite sure yet as to what use in the future will he need such a reference for.

“Moonseed Poison?”[2]

Tsukishima just smirks. “I got to finish you off before you have me burned at the stake don’t I, Chancellor?”

Kuroo smirked back. “Duly noted. What’s with the dress?” He nods at Tsukishima’s ensemble. “Decided to try something new? Really? In the 1700s? How bold.”

“If you must know, it’s a precaution. You’re right.” Tsukishima grimaces and Kuroo imagines the words must’ve tasted acrid for the younger to admit that he’s right. “Ever since those children started having ‘fits’ everyone has been suspicious of everything. But since they’re only ever suspicious of women mostly, I figured this is a good disguise in the _highly unlikely_ occasion I do get caught.”

Kuroo knows Tsukishima will never let himself get caught but he also know that the younger is nothing if not careful and infallible.

“Ah, yes, very clever. Who would ever suspect the town’s reputable tailor to be a crossdresser?”

“If you keep talking like that you’re going to be the one suspected of witchcraft.”

“I highly doubt that.” Kuroo snorts. “These humans are so set in their gender roles aren’t they?”

They would know. They’ve only been trying to rat each other out and get the other to be accused and burned at the stake since the witchcraft paranoia broke out. They’ve been setting each other up every chance they got and putting peculiar things in each other’s belongings where it’s visible for anyone (once, Kuroo charmed a cow to say Tsukishima’s name which resulted in his pen moving on its own while he was in a meeting with the town officials as Tsukishima’s retaliation), but it’s proving rather hard when majority of the people are so convinced that witches could only be women.

“The dress looks nice on you. Very nice fitting. But of course you made sure of that didn’t you?”

Instead of being affronted at the implication like Kuroo expected him to be, Tsukishima merely blinks before a coy smile spread on his lips. Kuroo’s eyes widens when an arm was put on his shoulder and a hand slid on his nape, long fingers playing lightly with the short hairs there.

“Of course I did. Why? Do you like it?”

“I—“

Tsukishima pulls himself flush against Kuroo, pins him against the tree as he drops his basket by their feet. He puts his other hand on his cheek to bring their faces closer. “Is it doing something for you?”

On instinct, Kuroo’s hands place themselves on Tsukishima’s tiny waist. He felt telltale texture of a corset and his grip tightened because look, it’s not like Kuroo is unaware. Tsukishima is…attractive, sometimes unfairly so, and he’s had the last couple of centuries to think about it and he’s not exactly clueless despite what Bokuto, Akaashi, and Kenma would otherwise argue. He knows he’s attracted to Tsukishima, knew it the moment he found himself sucking him off in that strip club in New York and extending their existence together in that timeline for about three years more. Tsukishima is attractive and Kuroo is attracted to him.

And now, seeing him in a well fitted dress (no matter how modest and very well covered he is) with the moonlight illuminating him from behind, eyes framed in long blonde lashes shining in the dark, warm body flushed against his, and a coy smile on his face, Kuroo admits that it is definitely doing something to him.

Kuroo loops his arms around Tsukishima’s waist, fingers crossing on the small of his back as he pulls him closer so they were now chest to chest. He wonders if Tsukishima could hear his heart hammering against his ribcage. He leans his head closer, their lips a hairsbreadth away as he whispers his admission against Tsukishima’s lips—

“Yes.”

Tsukishima scoffs lightly. “I’m kink shaming you.” He says before kissing Kuroo, feeling him smile against his lips.

 

* * *

 

“And then you screamed ‘witch!’ at the top of your lungs.”

Tsukishima frowns and Kuroo laughs at the memory of golden eyes widening as an angry mob gathers by the end of the field and gave chase. He had to pretend to be distraught and dazed when the villagers asked if he was alright as he fought not to laugh at Tsukishima hurriedly shedding his dress in the dark as he run for his life.

“Gotta finish you off before you could slip me that Moonseed poison don’t I?”

Tsukishima sends throwing knives Kuroo’s way. “I had to explain what a dress with my shop’s design was doing in the woods. I was under questioning for three days. I had to show up in court for five.”

“Hey, I tried to get you out of that didn’t I?” Kuroo dodges and catches one sending it back at Tsukishima using a speed spell. Tsukishima barely raised his shield before it hit him. “It couldn’t have been worse than the whole town being suspicious of why the Chancellor fought so hard to prove the town’s tailor’s innocence.”

The rumors of the Chancellor having certain affections for the town’s tailor circulated even after the trials ended. Honestly, Kuroo found it all hilarious and he would’ve put all the rumors to rest if it wasn’t for the fact that if neither of them are put in trial for witchcraft, they will be for being, well, gay.

Well, it didn’t matter. None of that happened anyway because—

“I was burned at the stake.” Tsukishima grits as he was knocked over a pile of debris. “And it wasn’t even for being a witch. It was for being accused of assisting and being in service of one— _a witch’s servant_! The fucking nerve of those imbeciles. I should’ve showed them what a real witch could actually do.”

“Hey, I said I tried to get you out of it didn’t I?”

“Ah, yes. I wondered about that.”

“I wanted to finish you off myself.”

“Yes, except you were watching by the balcony of your office looking so pleased with yourself.”

Kuroo sighs as he lands on his back after being knocked against the arena's wall. Yeah, he watched as Tsukishima got burned to crisps, but the ‘looking pleased with himself’ was more of amusement because the younger warlock clearly put a spell over himself to keep himself from feeling the burn (which only further convinced the people that he was, indeed, a witch) and was muttering curses under his breath as the fire lapped his body up, damning every villager and the whole town for centuries to come.

“Say, do you, by any chance, still have that dress?”

“Kuroo, this is hardly the time for that.”

“What? I’m just wondering. It holds a lot of good memories after all.”

“I’m still kink shaming you for that.”

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

**_Gangnam, Seoul, South Korea – November 17, 1990_ **

“Here.” A plate of cake is placed on the table as Tsukishima sits on the chair opposite, elbows on the table and he props his head up with a hand.

Kuroo turns to look from where he is watching the whole ballroom in full swing as people danced and mingled about. He looks down at the cake and then at Tsukishima’s bored face. “This isn’t poisoned is it?”

Tsukishima scoffs, a small smile playing at his lips as he said, “That would’ve been too easy and a cheap shot wouldn’t it? Kuroo, I am offended. After all these years, you still think I’d do you like that?”

“You can do me any time, darling.” Kuroo says with what he assumes is a dashing smile and Tsukishima rolls his eyes to pretend he doesn’t think it so.

“Why do you always have to be inappropriate?”

“It’s a talent.” Kuroo shrugs as he leans back in his chair. “I’m just saying that the offer is there if you’re ever interested.”

“Oh, you’d like that won’t you?”

“Now who’s being inappropriate?”

Tsukishima didn’t bother to answer and opted to roll his eyes as he sat back on his own chair and sipped his drink. Beside him, Kuroo nods and smiles at people passing by giving him congratulatory pats and greetings. A waiter passed them by with a tray of drinks and Tsukishima pluck two flutes of champagne for each of them.

“Thanks.” Kuroo nods as they clink their glasses together before taking a sip. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the kitchen?” He says, eyeing Tsukishima’s chef coat looking a little out of place amidst people dressed in suits and evening gowns.

“The staff is done for the night. I left somebody in charge for cleanup but I’m still on call if they need me. I’m just taking a little break.” Tsukishima says. “I noticed you didn’t get the chance to eat your cake yet so I thought I’d play nice and bring you a slice. Since it’s your birthday and all.”

“You know, I’d be touched if you weren’t you and I’m not me and we’re not literally destined to kill each other every other millennium.”

In this timeline, Kuroo is the Head of a marketing firm and his mortal friends and colleagues decided to throw him a party at a hotel where, coincidentally, Tsukishima is the Head of catering. Kuroo had been wary of eating or drinking anything for the whole night after Tsukishima sent him an innocuous smile earlier that night as Kuroo was entering the ballroom and Tsukishima was making his way presumably to the kitchens. When nobody dropped dead in the middle of dinner (which he honestly wasn’t expecting if he’s being honest because he knew Tsukishima wouldn’t do something as obvious as poisoning the whole ballroom) it was only then did he allows himself to eat. He didn’t, however, touch the cake even when none of the guests dropped dead with foam in their mouths. They’ve been playing this game for too long. It’s just a necessary precaution.

“I’m just returning the favor you gave me on my last birthday.” Tsukishima shrugs as he nods at the cake. “This is me offering you a truce.”

“If I remember correctly, the truce I gave you on your last birthday had less cake in it and more of me going down on you.”

The blush that crept up Tsukishima’s cheeks coaxes a loud laugh from Kuroo. He sneers to cover up his embarrassment taking the cake along with him.

Kuroo shoots up from where he’s bent on his seat from laughing so hard. He grabs Tsukishima’s wrist just as he was taking the plate and forced himself to calm down enough to speak.

“No, no, wait. I’m sorry. Please.” He sniffs as his laughter dies down. “Sit down. Don’t just leave yet. I’ll eat the cake.”

Tsukishima sits down with a huff and Kuroo chuckles at the small pout on the blonde’s lips. He takes the fork by the side of the plate, slices of a piece but looks to Tsukishima before taking a bite. “You _swear_ on your house this isn’t poisoned?”

Tsukishima makes to stand up and take the plate away again and Kuroo abruptly put the forkful of cake in his mouth. His face slowly changes into one of pleasantly surprised as he slowly chewed and swallowed.

“Hey, this isn’t half-bad.” He takes another bite of the cake again. “Actually, it’s—this cake is fucking great!”

“I’m insulted that you think it was gonna taste bad.”

“I’m just amazed it tastes this good ‘is all. What did you put in this? What spell did you use? Oh my god, it’s so moist.” Kuroo moans around another forkful. “And the chocolate is just right. This cake is definitely charmed isn’t?”

“I didn’t use any spell and no, it is not charmed.”

“This is—wait, what? Seriously.”

“I baked it the way humans do.” Tsukishima shrugs as if the fact that he just served Kuroo what might be the best cake he’s ever tasted in all the millennia he’s lived is nothng. “I like baking.”

“Oh, I... I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, well.” Tsukishima sighs. “We don’t really know much about each other do we?”

“Except that we can’t exist at the same time and we have to kill each other otherwise everything goes to shit.”

“Right.”

They’re silent after that. The party continues around them as the people dance to the upbeat tunes that the band is playing. The night is still young and it looks like the festivities are set to go on until morning. But none of that reaches the two warlocks as they continue to sit in silence, Tsukishima finishing his drink and tracing the rim of his glass when he’s finished while Kuroo finished his cake.

It wasn’t until he has finished the last bite did Kuroo decided to break it.

“Are there,” he clears his throat. “Are there any more cake left?”

Tsukishima looks up to see the hopeful look in Kuroo’s eyes, his shy, hesitant smile, and he hears the unspoken question. He licks his lips, biting down on his lower lip as he briefly considers before throwing away all inhibitions.

“Yeah. Yeah, there is. You can eat it all if you want.”

“So…kitchens? We can grab a bottle of champagne from the bar on the way there?”

They stood in unison, taking a quick detour to the bar to grab a bottle of wine and champagne because why not, before making their way to the hotel’s kitchens.

Tsukishima grabs Kuroo’s hand, stroking his thumb over his knuckles and they walk, and in a quiet voice—

“Happy birthday, Kuroo.”

 

* * *

 

“And then you went on to eating my cake for another eight years.”

“Yeah. Right until you _actually_ poisoned me the ninth year. I thought you don’t do cheap shots like that?”

Dust and sand fly around as the sun beat down on them. Both warlocks watch closely as they circle each other, weapons at the ready and anticipating the other's next move. Kuroo licks his lips and Tsukishima narrows his eyes. So far they've put up a good fight.

“Kuroo, really, you should know by now I’m not above doing anything to get my job done. Besides, it’s your fault for being complacent.”

“Eight years, Tsukishima. _Eight fucking years_.”

“Centuries, Kuroo, centuries. It’s been centuries and you’ve been around longer than I have. How have you never learned?”

Kuroo doesn’t answer because he doesn’t have to. They both know that at that point it was already a necessity.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

**_Manila, Philippines - December 24, 1961_ **

It’s a dead end.

Tsukishima lights up a cigarette as he leans on the dingy wall of a dead end narrow street, taking a drag and exhaling the smoke upwards as he waits patiently. His thin shirt clings on his sweaty back, he has never been fond of running or any strenuous physical activity and Manila is hot regardless of the time of the year. He never did prefer tropical countries.

A shadow of a man appears moments later and Tsukishima looks up to see the imposing figure of Kuroo, effectively trapping him with nowhere to escape, not that he was trying to anyway. 

“What’s this? Are you bowing out this time?” Kuroo asks, a perpetual smirk on his lips and a swagger to his steps. “Ten years and this is how you chose to end it? I must say I’m a little disappointed. I always figured you’d end things with a bang.”

Tsukishima scoffs, exhaling smoke through his nose. “You mistake me for you.” They both know he’s never one for the dramatics.

In this lifetime, Tsukishima is a street rat. He makes his living out of conning people and doing business on the far shady side. Kuroo is the detective assigned on his case. It’s started as a simple cop-and-criminal chase that escalated as Tsukishima’s crimes increased, became more heinous, more widespread, and Kuroo climbed up the ranks.

The streets of Manila are their turf. Tsukishima has led the country’s police force through elaborate chases around the capital, sometimes even in the provinces and islands, but they always come back here, in the dingy streets of Tondo and Quiapo, the darkest and seediest of Manila's underbelly, and yet Kuroo could never catch him.

Until now.

Kuroo knows this is Tsukishima surrendering. The only reason Kuroo's manage to trap him now is because Tsukishima let himself be trapped. If he’d learn anything about the younger warlock in the timelines they spent together is that he’ll never let himself get caught—and even if he did, he'd rather kill himself than hand his life over to Kuroo this easily.

(But that's ridiculous because they can't kill themselves. Kuroo would know. He tried once just to see if it’ll work and also a little bit to piss Tsukishima off once he finds out. The result was something that almost landed him in trial before the Ministry of Magic.)

Kuroo steps closer, hands in his pockets, his gun holsters digging into his arms from where they’re attached on his sides. “Why now?”

“The world is in shambles, Kuroo. One of us has to.” Tsukishima exhales, looks up, shining golden eyes meet bloody red. “Besides, you did it last time.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Liar.” Tsukishima huffs. "Come on. Consider this as your Christmas present." He takes one last drag before throwing the cigarette butt on the floor, crushing it with his heel. He fixes the collar of his suit as he watches Kuroo reach for his gun with a sigh.

The sound of thundering footsteps could be heard from the distance. Kuroo’s back up must be close.

Kuroo cocks his gun and points it at the younger warlock’s heart. Tsukishima didn’t flinch, only standing to his full height, eyes never leaving Kuroo’s

"You've always been shit at giving presents, Tsukishima."

Kuroo pulls the trigger. The smile on Tsukishima's face is bittersweet.

 

* * *

 

“I cannot believe you made me do that. Seriously.” Kuroo groans as their weapons clashed again. “You know how much I hate using human weapons and it’s not like I could kill you with magic then. It was already suspicious enough that there didn’t seem to be any type of struggle on your part, what more if I had used magic?”

“Oh, come on. Quit whining.” Tsukishima grits through clenched teeth as Kuroo bears down on him yet again. He's always been stronger than him. “I know you know the cake was poisoned.” He knows he did. His knowledge of potions is not something to sniff at but a warlock of Kuroo’s caliber and experience would be able to detect it by smell. Hell, he could’ve casted a spell to check. But instead, Kuroo looked him in the eye as he took a bite of the cake, with an acknowledging nod and that stupid smirk on his face even.

“Eight years, Tsukishima. One of us had to give.”

“Ten years, Kuroo. A whole fucking decade.” Tsukishima aims a kick at the back of Kuroo's legs but drops his weapon. “And I refuse to have you do it a second time.”

Kuroo manages to leap away in time but stumbles and looses his grip on his spear. Tsukishima takes advantage as he kicks it away. Kuroo snarls as Tsukishima puts his fists up. Looks like they’re doing this old school.

"You're still shit at giving presents."

"Tch. I'm working on it."

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

**_Paris, France - January 11, 1891_ **

Kuroo wakes up to sunlight streaming from the windows and the smell of smoke in the air. He shifts a little to hide his eyes from the sun and maybe get a couple more hours of sleep. He has never been a morning person.

And neither does the man beside him but somehow Tsukishima is sitting up on their bed smoking a cigarette, awfully out of character considering he usually sleeps later than Kuroo and is notoriously cranky in the mornings.

Kuroo throws an arm around Tsukishima’s waist, half of his face is burrowed in his pillow as he nuzzled the younger warlock’s naked waist. His profile is illuminated by the sunlight making his light features almost translucent, silk sheets pooling on his lap, cigarette dangling from long crooked fingers and smoke billowing around him while his other hand burrows itself in Kuroo’s bed hair. Like this, he looks every bit of a fae instead of a warlock. Not for the first time, Kuroo wishes that were the case. It would have made everything a lot easier.

“Good morning.” He croaks, voice still thick with sleep, tilting his head a little to send Tsukishima a small sleepy smile.

Tsukishima exhales, smoke coming out of think lips, and turns to him with an answering smile. He dips down stealing a chaste kiss and Kuroo tilts his head further to chase his lips for another lingering kiss. He tastes like smoke and coffee.

“Good morning to you, too.”

 _La Belle Époque_ [3] is probably the one of the most beautiful timelines Kuroo and Tsukishima has ever crossed paths. He always did love the arts and it helped that the people of this time aren’t as gender restricted as people of modern times tended to be. Kuroo likes taking Tsukishima to the social galas and lavish parties while Tsukishima likes visiting galleries and art exhibitions and would often ask Kuroo—subtly, of course, and in no certain terms—to accompany him.

(Kuroo also really likes seeing Tsukishima dressed in _haute couture_ and would often buy him dresses to try on in private only to take them off of him.)

“Isn’t it about time?” Tsukishima asks as he lights another cigarette and takes a drag looking at the view outside their window and away from Kuroo.

"Hm? Is it noon already? Do we have somewhere we need to be at?"

"You know what I mean."

They’ve been here for longer than they should, having crossed paths couple of years just after the end of the Franco-Prussian War. Tsukishima charmed his way into being a part of the Parisian bourgeoisie while Kuroo chose to work his way up to _nouveau riche._ They met at a gala hosted by a Marquis and has since been putting off the inevitable. No words were exchanged. Just an unspoken understanding.

“Just a little more.” Kuroo replies, arm tightening around the blonde’s waist.

Tsukishima exhales as his fingers resumed their earlier ministration of strong Kuroo’s hair. He feels Kuroo’s warm lips against his hip in a soft kiss and he hums and decides to worry for another day.

A ‘little more’ goes on to be another decade and the world in the brink of a war. When the Great War reached its fourth year, Tsukishima stabs Kuroo in the heart in his sleep.

A year later the Versailles Peace Conference was held marking the end of the First World War.

 

* * *

 

“We almost got caught that time.”

“Yeah. We were cutting it close.”

“Are you kidding? Nekomata was furious. I thought he was going to shank me there and then when he was giving me my next assignment." 

Kuroo's left arm is bleeding and there is a gash running from his right temple to to his left eyebrow. His clothes are torn and ripped and he looked worse for wear.

Nekomata had stared Kuroo down when he came back at the Nekoma House in the magic realm. He didn't say anything merely looked at Kuroo with eyes so cold he would have folded in on himself if he was a lesser man. Kuroo remembers holding his ground even with the heavy and dark forboding aura of the High Warlock practically suffocating him as he presented himself before him--but just barely. He also remembers throwing up in his room once he was dismissed.

"Yeah, well, at least you got to go on your next assignment. I wasn't allowed to leave the magic realm for a century. I was literally grounded like a fucking child."

Tsukishima is faring no better. His right eye is closed and swollen his left shoulder is bleeding from Kuroo's spear. He's pretty sure he has at least three broken ribs from a strength enhanced kick Kuroo delivered earlier. His clothes are in tatters and he's covered in cuts and bruises.

He got off a little easier than Kuroo. Ukai was clearly pissed when he returned to the Karasuno House. Tsukishima got an earful and a half about it because _'You dragged it so long it started a fucking war, you brat!'_ and had him doing chores and menial tasks around the Karasuno House and wasn't allowed to take on any assignments outside of the magic realm for a century. Ukai would have put him under house arrest and taken his magic had it not been for the fact that he was the one who finished Kuroo off and put an end to it.

"I thought we would have to skip.” Kuroo's tone is half regretful and half relieved because he had been hoping that he and Tsukishima would receive the same punishment and there'd be a time and place they could exist without having to kill each other but also grateful because he doesn't know if he could go on existing in another timeline where the prophecy needs to be fulfilled if he ever got the chance to know what it's like to not have that burden.

Tsukishima merely smirks, cynical and all too aware of Kuroo's thoughts. He finds amusement at how Kuroo could sometimes still be so naive despite being around for much longer than he is. And he would have called him out on it, too, except--except that would make him a hypocrite. His smirk turns rueful and at length he says--

“We wouldn’t be so lucky.”

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

**_London, UK (or what it used to be) – February 14th, 3984_ **

Tsukishima stares down at the box proffered to him. It’s red and in the shape of heart, slightly dented with a ribbon tied around it. He didn’t need to look up to know that Kuroo is sporting a shit eating grin and looking entirely too pleased at himself.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Tsukki!”

Kuroo puts the box of chocolates on Tsukishima’s lap before unceremoniously plopping down next to him on the ground. Tsukishima mutters a quiet ‘thanks’ as he opens the box and stared at its contents.

"Do we even still celebrate Valentines' Day? In this day and age?"

"I don't know but it's a beloved tradition that should be preserved."

Tsukishima just shakes his head and mutters ‘ridiculous’, rather fondly Kuroo would argue, before taking one of the chocolates in the box and popping it in his mouth. He makes a face and Kuroo just laughs sheepishly and apologizes because he knows it's probably not up to his standard but it’s all he can do given their limited supplies and their makeshift kitchen which, naturally, isn’t much considering the current state of things.

Surprisingly, Tsukishima merely hums takes another piece and says, "It's alright. The intention and the feelings behind it are more important." He takes advantage of Kuroo’s surprise and pops one inside his agape mouth before eating another piece himself. “How long has it been?”

“Well,” Kuroo sighs as he pushes a hand through his dirty hair. He makes a mental note to do a cleaning charm on himself later. “It’s been forty years since the apocalypse happened. We’ve known each other before then for fifty years so I’d say it’s almost a century. Give or take.”

“That long now, huh.”

“Nekomata will be so mad.” Kuroo sighs as he sagged against the younger warlock, opening his mouth when Tsukishima offered him another chocolate “Do you think he’ll have me banned from taking assignments like Master Ukai did to you?”

“Are you kidding? Base from all this,” Tsukishima gestures around them, at their makeshift hideout, at the chaos and destruction surrounding them in the post-apocalypse which they may or may not have caused. “He’ll probably smite you the second you step foot back in your House and that’s the best case scenario. Worst case scenario, Knights of the Ministry of Magic will be waiting for your arrival with a summon to appear before the High Warlocks, but that still depends in whether or not you get to end me before I end you.”

“You talk as if you’re not facing the same fate.” Kuroo turns to face him and Tsukishima just shrugs. “And awfully sure than you’d be the one to end me. You never know. Those chocolates might be poisoned.”

“Oh, Kuroo don’t be so hard on yourself. They don’t taste too good but they’re not that bad.” Tsukishima chuckles, popping another piece. “Besides, you ate them too.”

“Well, I made the poison. I’m immune to it.”

“Well, are they?”

“Are they what?”

“Poisoned?”

There is a beat before Kuroo slumps back against Tsukishima’s side. “Nah.”

Tsukishima smiles. He thought so. He’s halfway through the box and he’s not foaming in the mouth yet and doesn’t feel any different. And he knows Kuroo. He’s impatient. He likes to use poisons with quick and not so subtle effects.

“Besides, I wouldn’t do you dirty like that. Unlike some people.”

“Oh my god. Let that go.”

“Never!"

Tsukishima shoves Kuroo off of him, the older warlock laughing as he let himself fall away before resuming his place slumped against the younger. Tsukishima doesn’t push him off this time and even let Kuroo intertwine their hands sighing lightly when he starts stroking his knuckles with his thumb.

"We should probably get on with it." Kuroo says even but he doesn’t move from his position and merely puts his head on Tsukishima’s shoulder.

"You think?" Tsukishima replies shifting closer and leaning his head on top of Kuroo’s.

"We'll do it after you finish the chocolates."

"I hope you know just because you gave me chocolates doesn't mean I'd go easy on you."

"But of course, darling."

Kuroo kisses Tsukishima by the corner of his mouth. Tsukishima turns his head to give him a proper kiss and Kuroo smiles. He tastes like truffles.

 

* * *

 

“You ever wonder why it’s just us.”

Tsukishima raises a brow in question wincing a little at the action.

“You know, why it’s just us who always somehow exist in the same timelines, the same dimensions.” Kuroo says coughing a little and spitting blood on the ground. “And if you say it’s because of the fucking prophecy I will end you—but, well, we already know that’s where we’re headed anyway so go ahead I guess.”

“I don’t know.” Tsukishima sighs craning his neck to get rid of the crick there. He’s so tired. He's bleeding and bruised all over and he's just so exchausted. He really just wants this to end so he could go back home and tend to his wounds. This fight is dragging way longer than it should and it wouldn't do them good if the crowd gets bored. “I don’t know anyone else who goes through the same thing.”

“This is all your fault.”

“Excuse me?”

“You just had to be born in the same timeline that I happen to exist. You couldn’t have been born a millennium earlier? Or later?”

“You couldn’t just not exist in the timeline I was born?” Tsukishima retorts. “But, yeah, sure. I apologize on behalf of my parents. I’m sure they’d love to hear your feedback on the inconvenience of my birth.”

“No, wait! Don’t do that! I want to make a good impression!”

“What ever for?” The exasperation is clear on Tsukishima’s tone.

“You know, for when I meet them.” Kuroo shrugs, crying out a little as the action proved that, yep, he most definitely have a broken rib. Or two.

“Kuroo, you will never get to meet them.” Tsukishima blinks at Kuroo clearly exasperated but also a little apologetic. His smile is wry. “You know why.”

“A man can hope.”

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

**_Tokyo, Japan - March 14, 1978_ **

“This whole the prophecy not caring about which timelines it throws us is really starting to get on my nerves.” Kuroo sighs as he approaches Tsukishima’s table on the café they agreed to meet at. “Yesterday, I was helping a shapeshifter with a hair grower potion because he sheds like crazy whenever he shape shifts into anything with fur. Then I found out he drank a potion from a witch in Shibuya and something went wrong but he can’t remember where her shop was so I was like, ‘Dude, just Google it.’” He looks at Tsukishima with flat eyes. “I fucking told someone to ‘Google it’ in the 1970s.”

“I always told you your big mouth will be the death of you.” Tsukishima hums around the rim of his coffee mug. “I’m actually convinced that I don’t really need to even do anything to eliminate you in a shared timeline.”

“Did you just ask me to meet here so you can be mean to me?”

“That and also to give you something.”

Kuroo perks up at this. Already having an idea even before Tsukishima reaches into his bag and sets a book on the table with a white ribbon tied around it.

"This is merely out of social obligation." Tsukishima says looking away as he slides the book towards Kuroo.

Kuroo smiles and takes Tsukishima’s hands on his own. Thankfully, Tsukishima chose a secluded booth at the back of the café so they are safe from the public’s eye. Japan in the 70s is not exactly accepting of two men sitting close and holding hands. "You can say whatever the hell you want but I already know what you really mean."

"Oh, do you now." Tsukishima quirks a brow but doesn’t move to let go of Kuroo’s hold.

"It's been years, love. Centuries. Millennia even. The last time I gave you something for Valentine’s was in our last timeline and that was at least two millennia ago. I didn’t even give you anything this year and you bought me—" he looks at the title of the book “ _A New System on Chemical Philosophy_. This is a really old title. How did you even get a hold of this? How do you even know I’m interested in non-magic sciences?”

“You mentioned something about it when we were in Lausanne in 1789. It’s nothing. I was just passing a bookstore and I saw it and I thought it’d be polite to return the favor for the chocolates last time.”

Tsukishima doesn’t mention that he went to four bookstore looking for that specific title and he may or may not have charmed the shop keeper on the fourth one to _persuade_ him to sell Tsukishima their last copy instead of donating it to a local library.

“Exactly. You’re lucky I know how to speak your language.”

"And what do I mean, really?"

"That you love me."

"I tolerate you."

Kuroo just grins, wide with his eyes crinkling in the corners. Tsukishima scoffs, looking at Kuroo impassively. Or at least he’s trying. It’s hard when Kuroo is smiling and looking at him like he’s the only one he sees.

"Nah. You love me. I know you do." Kuroo leans forward on the table, smile never leaving his face. He’s still holding Tsukishima’s hands and he’s still looking at him like he’s the only one in the room.

"Yeah." Tsukishima relents, faux poker face breaking into a smile as he leans forward too and places a kiss on Kuroo’s nose and then his lips. "Yeah, I do."

 

* * *

 

“I love you, too. You know that right?”

“Yeah. Of course, I do.”

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

**_The Colosseum; Rome, Italy – 264 B.C._ **

Tsukishima falls to the ground and doesn’t move. Kuroo snaps his fingers and everything freezes. He makes his way to the fallen warlock, straddling his waist. He wipes at the blood trickling by the side of Tsukishima’s face, hands gentle as his thumb caresses Tsukishima’s cheek. Tsukishima leans to his touch and Kuroo lets out a bitter smile.

“How did we come to this?”

“Different dimensions, different timelines, different circumstances, same old shit. You’re still a warlock from the House of Nekoma and I’m still a warlock from the House of Karasuno. We’re two parts of a prophecy and the prophecy always fulfills itself. It’s just the way it is.”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

“Hopefully the next ones will be different. Not like—“ Kuroo gestures to the crowd of people frozen in time mid-cheer as they watch the two gladiators fight to the death, “—this.”

“Hopefully.”

"I hope we get sent somewhere near the beach next time. I hear Bali is nice. Ooh! Or the Caribbean! Maybe we get to be pirates in our next timeline!"

“What, so you can act like you’re—what’s the name of that pirate in that movies you like so much? Captain Jack Dove? Jack Parrot?”

“Captian Jack Sparrow! I know you know his name, you ass. How dare you. You know I love those movies.”

Tsukishima lets out a weak chuckle but it comes out as a wheeze. His armor is digging to his side making him very aware of his broken ribs. Gods. He hates how he can’t even use a spell to heal himself. Kuroo is already breaking at least ten laws of magic just by freezing time. He hopes he doesn’t get in too much trouble for this.

Tsukishima moves his hands to rest on Kuroo’s hips, his body a welcome weight on his despite his condition. He’s suddenly reminded of that night in New York so many timelines ago. But this time, Kuroo is looking at him with those eyes again, the one where he’s thinking of how to stall more and how he can get out of finishing him. It’s up to him to move things along it seems.

“See you on the flipside, Tetsurou.”

Kuroo swallows. “Yeah, see you.”

“Hm. Don’t be late.”

_Find me soon so we can have more time._

“When am I ever?

_Of course._

Tsukishima shoots him an answering smirk before Kuroo snaps his fingers and releases the time freeze spell.

Kuroo plunges his spear to Tsukishima’s chest. A smile is frozen in Tsukishima’s face, Kuroo stands and looks away.

Around them, the crowd cheers.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You’re late.”

“Give me a break we’ve only been here for three years and the adjustment period takes at least a year.”

“…you’re still two years late.”

“I miss you too, Tsukki.”

**Author's Note:**

> [[1]](https://www.newstatesman.com/blogs/the-faith-column/2008/04/young-age-children-coming) Similar to the Moon Lodge concept for women, is the Sun Lodge for Men. Entry into the Sun Lodge typically begins with a night of camping and a ceremony of drumming to call up the God energy within. It’s also a place for a young man to learn about his own balance and the energies of the Goddess within himself. Allowing men to reclaim their own feelings, emotions, nurturing and intuition that have been repressed by society for centuries.  
> [[2]](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Moonseed_Poison) Moonseed Potion - The Moonseed Poison is a poison. Moonseed is presumably used in the making of it. Appearances: Harry Potter Trading Card Game.  
> [[3]](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Belle_%C3%89poque) _La Belle Époque_ – French for "Beautiful Era") was a period of Western history. It is conventionally dated from the end of the Franco-Prussian War in 1871 to the outbreak of World War I in 1914. Occurring during the era of the French Third Republic (beginning 1870), it was a period characterized by optimism, regional peace, economic prosperity, an apex of colonial empires and technological, scientific and cultural innovations. In the climate of the period, especially in Paris, the arts flourished.
> 
>  
> 
> Hit me up in [Tumblr](http://miya-twins.tumblr.com)!


End file.
